


From Your Mouth to God's Ears

by InTheShadows



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Don't copy to another site, God Loki, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Possessive Loki (Marvel), Priest Tony Stark, Rimming, Tiberius Stone Is A Dick, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trust Kink, as in - literally a god & not marvel's definition, magic is handy for sex, vaguely medieval anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-20 22:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20683136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheShadows/pseuds/InTheShadows
Summary: When Tony is caught taking a tumble with Ty, Lord Stone's heir, he is disinherited and sent away to be a priest as punishment. He ends up at the Temple of Loki, which is nothing like he expects. For one thing it is so poor and so bland that it might as well not be a temple at all. For another thing, there is no life to any of the other priests and their purpose seems more to appease Loki then to worship him. Honestly he doesn't even remember what Loki is the godof. Not that he is planning on staying there long. He already has his escape planned when something changes. Something - unexpected to say the least. Loki doesn't actually exist. Does he?





	From Your Mouth to God's Ears

**Author's Note:**

> a prompt fill from the frost-iron tumblr found [HERE](https://frost-iron.tumblr.com/post/146514885262/prompt-tony-is-forced-to-be-a-priest-after-being)!  
Fun fact: This wasn't originally supposed to be explicit. There's no sex in my first draft of this story at all... and then these two happened... <s>Am I surprised? Not at all.</s>

Tony pouts the entire way to the temple. Or at least that’s what he lets the guards assume. That he is just another spoiled, rich brat, being punished for doing something stupid. They aren’t entirely wrong - it was stupid, but not for the reasons that they think it is. Having a tumble in the haystack with Tiberius, Lord Stone’s heir, was stupid. But that was because they got caught. And because it turned out Ty was a little weasel. He blamed everything on Tony. That Tony had seduced him, that it was all his idea, that he was afraid of what would happen if he refused. 

What a pile of shit. First of all, they were the same rank, so how the last one was considered legitimate at all is beyond him. It’s not like Howard wasn’t a lord himself, cut from the same cloth. And as to the first two, they are even bigger piles of shit. Ty was the one who suggested it to begin with and he was the one with all the experience. Tony is no virgin it’s true, but his main objective was to flirt with the serving girls - and the one stable boy when no one was looking. He bedded a few of them, but only a few. 

It became very clear very quickly when he was with Ty that Ty knew exactly what he was doing. There was no awkward fumbling on his part. He took charge and kept the advantage, taking exactly what he wanted. He was strong and confident and bossy. He was all smirks and smugness as he told Tony exactly how to suck his cock. Tony enjoyed himself too, but it wasn’t the best time he has ever had. Ty left him wanting even before they were caught. At least with Tony’s partners he made sure that they were always satisfied before they were done. 

None of that is important right now. What is important is that he perfects both his act and his escape plan. Like hell he is actually going to do what Howard says. He was probably glad for the excuse to get rid of Tony. That meant Gregory was the heir now. Howard always did like Gregory better. Tony was always a disappointment. This supposedly proves it right here. Like having sex with a man is supposed to be such a sin. Hardly. Tony doesn’t care what the priests or officials or anyone else says. It’s not. 

Try telling that to Howard though. He disinherited Tony so fast it was enough to make his head spin. The plan was then made to send him to a temple where he would spend the rest of his life. Yeah right. Tony is leaving as soon as he can. He thought about ditching the guards on the road, but he assumed that would lead to too big of a manhunt. Howard has too much pride to let him get away that easily. Best to lay low for a bit, let the scandal pass and everyone forget about him. Then he can leave, hide in plain sight. 

He won’t even be penniless either. Rhodey has been entrusted with a fair sum of his inheritance. Enough for Tony to live comfortably on for the rest of his life. This may have all come as a shock, but not a surprise. Tony has been planning just in case something like this happened for a long time now. How could he not when it’s never been a secret that he is the disappointment and the unwanted heir? He was not leaving things to chance. 

So he plays the part, acting sullen and silent, as they make the journey. Best not to arouse any suspicions. The last thing he needs is for someone to be watching him too closely. Then he’ll have to wait even longer. It won’t be a worry though - not from the guards. They fall for the act completely. Not that it’s all that hard. No one has a very high opinion of him right now. Only half of that is from the whole lying with a man thing. The other half is from the terrible reputation that is only somewhat earned. Less than people think. 

Personally he blames Gregory for that one. They use to be close as kids - closer at least. They weren’t great friends and they fought like any other siblings. But they knew that they could rely on each other. Something changed, though, when Tony was thirteen. To this day he still doesn’t know what happened. It was a slow change. Anything too abrupt and Tony would have noticed right away. Instead he didn’t see it until it was too late. Gregory has never explained either, no matter how much Tony asked. Part of him wants to blame Howard - thinks he turned Gregory against him - but he doesn’t know for sure. 

And now he is never going to see his family or his lands again. Not that there is a whole lot there to miss. No matter how long he lived there it never felt like home. Not truly. In his twenty years he can only count a handful of times he was truly happy. Those times include Rhodey or the servants the most. How telling is that? It wasn’t for lack of trying. It just seemed that no matter what he did, he never fit in. As if he was always an outsider. He doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, only that it had to be something. 

Thinking on this is a waste of time however. It can’t change the past and frankly he wouldn’t want to. As slightly terrifying and annoying as all of this is, he is free. He is finally free from everything that always threatened to drown him. Becoming a priest? As laughable as that is, it is the first step. It’s not as if they can keep him looked up forever. If Howard can’t succeed in breaking him then neither can they. He won’t let them. He is determined to have the last laugh in the end. 

:::

It ends up taking a fortnight to reach the temple. It is out of the way, separate from any village or settlement. It is also a small one, as temples go. Mainly because of the god they serve. It was decided to send him to the Temple of Loki both because there are not many priests and because he had no wealth to make him valuable to any of the larger and more esteemed temples. 

What a joke. As if Tony believes in any of this otherworldly business. He believes in what he can see. Touch. Take apart and understand. He is sure there is a better explanation for life than some deity in the sky getting bored and making them. It’s a pile of shit almost as big as Ty. That it isn’t says more about Ty than it does about his nonexistent belief in religion. Yet another reason this priest business is ridiculous. 

They are greeted by the head priest, a plain man who introduces himself as Father Tom. Or he would be plain if he didn’t have the most unusual, and attention catching, eyes Tony has ever seen. There is something about them. A spark, a light, that he has never seen before. It’s not just intelligence - it’s something more. It makes him uneasy because what does that mean for his escape plans? But he pushes that away for now. There will be time later, to see what kind of a threat he poses. 

Father Tom smiles politely as he is abandoned by his guards and shown to his cell. Because that is what it is called - a cell. As if he needed anymore reassurance that this was just another dungeon to throw him into. He is left alone, with no explanation, no warnings and no threats. There is no sign that Father Tom even knows why he is here, although he must. That is not what he was expecting. Aren’t priests supposed to be extra disgusted by him compared to everyone else? If anything he seems less concerned with Tony than more. What? 

The door closes ominously behind him and he looks around, although it does not take long. There is a small table against one wall, and a cot. On it there is one pillow and one blanket. On the table there are two robes. At least there’s more than one. That’s it. It takes a blink of an eye to see everything. The room is four steps by four steps and no more. It really is a cell. 

Putting on the robe takes about as long as his glance and is about as pleasant. It is long enough that it overs his feet on the ground. Probably a good thing because he was not given shoes of any kind - not even some cheap sandals. The robe belt around his waist is the only thing keeping it from being completely shapeless. And itchy. It scratches his skin as if it wants to rub it raw. It likely will if he stays in it long enough. 

There is nothing else. Nothing else to do. Nothing else to see. The only light comes from the hallway, through his small, barred window. He doesn’t have a candle or the sun for light. He has nothing. There isn’t even a place to hide his clothes, so they will likely soon be gone, he is sure. It’s just - nothing. For the first time it really hits him, what all of this means. He just about collapses onto the cot and buries his head into his hands. He has never felt so isolated and abandoned before, not even when he always felt like an outsider. At least he knew he had someone then. And he had his things, even if they weren’t overly important then. 

Now he has nothing and no one. He is farther from home than he has ever been, in a strange place, with strange people, exiled because of an ass. There is nothing else he can plan for right now. Nothing - nothing - nothing. The word bounces around in his head, shaking him to the core. Even if he planned for this exile long ago doesn’t mean it has been easy to bear. Getting away from Howard and Gregory and everyone else who never thought much of him - that was fine. But everything else? Now he’s not so sure about that. Too late for regrets now though. What’s done is done. He takes a deep breath and pulls himself together. Now is not the time to fall apart. He can do this. He can. 

A different priest comes to collect him soon after. It is time for meal, which becomes apparent when they arrive at a small dining hall. There is only one long table, with candles dimly lighting the room. There is no talking, no introductions, no welcome. No one even looks at him, let alone smiles or frowns or anything at all. It is as if the life had been sucked out of them. It makes him shiver in fear. Is this why he was sent to this temple instead? Not because of their numbers, but so that he will become like them? Lifeless. Cheerless. The only one who seems to have any interest in him - in anything at all - is Father Tom. He gives Tony a nod and smile when he sees him looking, but does not break the silence either. 

One priest - the head priest - out of twenty three. Those aren’t good numbers, The food is just as bland as everything else around here. There is no flavour, no color, nothing. Once again - nothing. Expecting anything else is probably foolish, but he wasn’t expecting it to be this bad. Just like his room it is bear and depressing. Nothing. 

When everyone is finished they go to the chapel to pray. For what feels like an eternity they kneel on the hard ground, chanting words Tony can’t quite seem to grasp. They flow right through him without meaning a thing. He bows his head and moves his mouth without saying a thing. No one notices. 

The chapel is just as decorated as the rest of the place. That is to say - not at all. There is an alter, candles and not a single statue or painting to show their supposed deity. Not one. Is it because of how poor they are or something else? Just what is Loki the god of again? He can’t remember. It’s not as if he ever paid attention before. Which obviously made him a bad person according to certain others, but he hadn’t cared. He still doesn’t, but it makes him strangely uneasy right now, this not knowing. What is he missing here? 

When night falls they go back to their room to sleep. Tony instantly and gratefully sheds his robe as soon as the door closes. Oh that’s better. So much better. The robe alone is enough to drive him mad. And as predicted his other clothes are gone. He stretches stiff limbs and then lays down. The blanket isn’t much better, but at least it is something. Fortunately it is warm enough now that he can go without the extra layers. When winter comes he gets the feeling it will be a misery. 

Not that he plans on being here that long. He will be long gone by then. It might be even easier than expected if the only one he has to worry about is Father Tom. The others? He might as well not even be there. It is as if their bodies are there, but their souls aren’t. Tony doesn’t believe in souls anymore than he believes in gods, but there is no denying what they are like. He doesn’t know why, but he won’t let the same thing happen to him. His mind is the only thing he has right now. He won’t lose that too. 

Sleep is a long time in coming that night. He spends too much time tossing and turning, unable to stop thinking. Unable to get comfortable. Unable to calm the storm his stomach has become. When he finally does it feels as if it is only a moment before there is a knock on his door, waking him up. He groans and throws on his robe with distaste. Ugh. Mornings are never his best, even when he does sleep well. 

:::

It soon becomes clear that there is a very simple pattern to their day - pray, eat, pray, work in the garden on the outside of the temple, pray, eat, pray, go to sleep, repeat. No wonder no one has any life let within them. All of this boredom and dullness has sucked it right out of them. He has only been here a week and already he has to resist the urge to climb the walls. Or claw at them. The blandness is making him twitch already. His skin certainly looks like it. He still isn’t used to these damn robes. 

But two other things are glaringly obvious as well. One being that calling this a temple is being far too generous. It might be a place to worship a god, sure, but the word temple implies something - more. Something this place is not. There is nothing grand or majestic about it. It’s small and dull and frankly pretty depressing all told. All of that can be explained by the lack of funds, but there is one glaring detail that cannot be dismissed. 

There is not one statue, nor painting, nor poor attempted carving nor any resemblance of Loki in this entire place. Not one. Nothing. No one has even tried to make something. If you didn’t know better there is nothing to tell anyone who deity this temple is dedicated to. 

Which leads to the second point - the only reason, it seems, that this temple, these priests, exist at all is to appease Loki. It’s not so much worship as it is bribery. ‘Oh Loki, you’re so great, please leave us alone and never show us your face.’ Which is just - what? Tony still isn’t too clear what Loki is the god of, but that can’t be right. He can't be that bad can he? According to these chants it sounds almost as if he is some kind of demon. But a good demon so please don’t smite us. 

The entire thing is ridiculous and just makes Tony roll his eyes. Truly? _ This _ is supposed to flatter him enough to leave them alone? If Tony were him than he’d be extra present just to spite them. Not that he is suddenly a believer or anything, but the point still stands. How is any of this a good offering? It’s more than a little bit pathetic if you ask Tony. Not that anyone has. Not that he’s had a single conversation since he entered this place. 

Already he has his plan set in how to leave. It isn’t fancy, but it doesn’t need to be. Not from a place like this. The only thing really stopping him is that it is still too soon. He should wait at least a month, just to be safe. There is unlikely to be any changes that interfere with his plan, but he still needs to be sure. Finding his old clothes would also help, but it isn’t actually necessary. He just _ really _ hates these robes. 

Rhodey should be back from patrol by now and have heard Tony’s fate. He’ll know to expect him eventually and what they’ll do from there. The plan isn’t that detailed by necessity, but it is solid. Although this is a situation neither of them thought of, the plan can still cover it. All he has to do is wait. And not lose his mind while he does. Already his arms are red from his nails against his skin. His fidgeting has not been gentle as of late. 

Keeping his head down is challenging enough at times, if only because he has to resist the urge to scream and poke. Have something change, even if the change isn’t necessarily good. Taking things quietly does not come natural to him. Some days, before, making a fuss was the only way he could get attention at home. To get Howard to notice him. Otherwise he would fail to acknowledge Tony’s existence for days at a time. This feels eerily similar - not a good thing. 

But he does because he has to. Because this is what he needs to do first. If he ruins this chance then nothing will change and he will be stuck here forever. Since he refuses to let that happen he swallows the urge and fights to fit in. It’s not hard. Not with the men he is surrounded by. It’s not hard, yet at times he can’t help but make some small act of rebellion. Something only he will notice. It always makes him feel better afterwards. Yeah he has issues. He knows. 

So he watches and waits, keeping track of the time by marking lines on the wall of his cell with a stolen spoon. He needs to, to make sure he doesn’t miscount because one day is just like the other, with nothing to tell them apart. It’s boring, it’s mindless and it’s easy - until, suddenly, it isn’t. Until suddenly he gets the strange feeling that he is being watched.

It begins some time into his first fortnight here. At random times during the day he would feel eyes on him. Staring at him. Assessing him. But when he turns to look no one is there. At meals, outside, in the chapel, it doesn’t matter. The times it unnerves him the most when he is alone, trying to sleep and failing. When he is completely alone with no one to blame the feeling on. Because no one is there so it has to be in his head. Right? But no, of course there is no one there. Of course he is imagining things. It can’t be anything else. Just this place getting to him. 

But it’s hard to convince himself that at times. He knows what it feels like to be stared at. He knows what real eyes on him are like opposed to imaginary ones. These are real. As impossible as it seems they are real. Or that’s what his mind wants him to believe anyways. Maybe he is going mad - sooner than he expected. Maybe he is more nervous than he thought. Whatever it is, it isn’t a pleasant sensation. It makes him twitchier, jumpier. Uncomfortable. 

It makes him rethink his plan - does he move things forward or backward? Is there a true need to change the day or is it his mind turning against him? How can he tell? He doesn’t know and he hates it. If only he had solid proof one way or another. If only he _ knew _. That is the worst part of this - he doesn’t know. It’s another thing he hates incidentally. Not knowing is dangerous. That is how you get hurt. 

In the end he decides to push back his escape later than he planned, to make sure. Normally he has no problem rushing into things, but if someone tries to rush him than good luck moving him. There is a bit of that in the stare it seems so he stays. The eyes are still present two months on though. They never seem to waver, there is no pattern to them, yet they aren’t hostile. It’s not like when Howard would stare, just waiting for him to mess up. They are - curious almost. After putting up with them for so long that is the word Tony decides on. That still doesn’t make him believe in them anymore though. That’s still impossible. 

By the second month, though it is time to leave. Everything is getting to be too much - the endless chanting, the food, the lack of anything interesting. And the robe. One must not forget the robe because Tony is certainly never able to. He still isn’t able to adjust to just how itchy and miserable it is. There has to be something to it that is making it even worse. 

He leaves at night when everyone else is asleep. It’s not hard to stay awake. Even if he did not have all of that nervous energy running through him than it wouldn’t matter. He still isn’t sleeping very well here. Everything is silent as he slips out of the door and into the hall. None of the doors have locks on them and for that he is truly grateful. He could have worked something out regardless, but this way he doesn’t have to waste any time. 

The way out is through the chapel, which is fairly convenient all things considering. If Tony needs an excuse for being out of bed all he needs to say is that he is going to the chapel to pray. Believable enough in this place. That’s how they spend the majority of their days after all. Although it seems as if that will be unneeded. He doesn’t see anyone until he reaches the chapel itself. The he stops just outside of the door frame because someone else is already there. 

That isn’t the strange part though. That comes from the fact that all of the candles are lit - something that never happens after their final prayer. Every night they are extinguished once they leave. He knows because he watches it happen. Tonight was the same as any other. Nor is the person a priest. That much is clear by their clothing. From shoulder to toe they are clothed in leather. 

Their back is to Tony as they stand unmoving in front of the altar. There is something eerie about this. Goosebumps run up his arms as he stands and stares. What now? Should he go back to his room? Wake Father Tom? Confront whoever it is? His escape isn’t happening - not tonight. But what should he do now? Damn whoever this is. Why couldn’t they have picked a different night to creepily intrude? Tony is so close he can taste it, but there is no way to get past the stranger without being seen. 

“You might as well join me if you are going to keep staring.” 

The voice startles Tony into a jump. It is smooth and rich as it slides right off of his skin. Well that answers that question he supposes. Cautiously he enters, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the man - because that voice is enough to tell him that much. “Who are you?” he asks, “What are you doing here?” 

“Oh little priest,” the man chuckles, “I have as much right to be here as you do. Even more so if you would like to compare situations.” He turns just enough to give Tony a wicked smirk. 

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. Oh. Oh my. Sharp green eyes look at him boldly. Soft black hair frames a face of pale skin and even sharper cheekbones. That smirk dances along his mouth, promising nothing good. In short he is nothing if not the most attractive man Tony has ever seen. 

“Oh? Is that so?” He raises an eyebrow as he comes to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder. He is taller than Tony too. 

“Indeed,” he nods, “Tell me priest just who do you think I am?” 

Tony scowls. “An ass,” he says without hesitation or pause, “How should I know? It’s not as if I know anyone in this place. How are you any different? Although,” he eyes him blatantly because yes please, “I would have remembered you if we had met before.” 

The man laughs, clearly delighted. “Is that so? Well there are many who would agree with you. They would not, however, be so gleeful about it. Quite the opposite in fact.” 

“Are they blind?” Tony asks with a snort. That’s the only explanation he can think of. Who wouldn’t want someone like him to stare at? 

That smirk takes on an even sharper edge. “Some might as well be. But it is more that my reputation usually precedes me.” 

“It must be the cheekbones,” Tony says without any real thought. Normally he is much more cautious with who he charms - mainly women with a few exceptions. With men it is a much more delicate balance. But here and now he is holding nothing back. There is just something about the man that makes Tony throw caution to the wind. 

He hums. “Is that so? How wonderful to have a priest that finally appreciates me.” 

Tony’s mind stutters at that. “_ Your _ priest?” he makes a face, “Don't tell me you’re trying to pass yourself off as Loki.” 

The man throws his head back and barks out a laugh. “Pass myself off am I? Even better - you do not believe at all, do you?” 

“Don’t take it personal,” Tony shrugs easily as he watches, “I don’t believe in any of the gods. I mean you really want me to believe someone up in the sky went ‘Let’s make humans today’ and just did it? What kind of planning is that?” 

“A bit more complicated than that, but I doubt the actual explanation will sound any more logical to you. Besides that,” he smirks again, “I quite enjoy that you do not regard any of the others as well. It means that I may have you all to myself.” 

Tony is still doubtful about this whole thing - where is the proof? - but he nods. “Right.” 

His tone doesn’t deter the man in the slightest. “Come my priest, do you not wish to give your god a proper welcome?” 

Teasing. He is definitely teasing now. “Pretty sure that’s what got me put here in the first place.” Still far too bold, but Tony can’t help it. Honestly, this man has missed his mark if he is supposed to be Loki. Nothing he has learned about this god makes mention of humor or playing or attractiveness of any kind. 

“Oh I know,” he sounds positively thrilled, “I have been watching you. So different from those other pests they send to me. None had the courage or the cleverness to stand up to me.” 

Images of lifeless eyes flash before Tony. “So you took it from them instead?” 

“They took it from themselves. Their encounter with me changed them. It is no fault of mine if their will is not strong enough.” He dismisses it. 

Alright, so if this is real - and Tony is in no way admitting that it is - he can see why no one would have a high opinion of Loki. That still doesn’t mean that this is Loki in front of him. Or this isn’t a dream instead. “Will enough to match a god? That sounds like something that people frown on.” Not that he cares about a little thing like that though. 

He sorts elegantly. “What do they matter? You are doing fine.” He looks Tony over. “You still do not believe me though. How I do love a challenge. Tell me,” he steps closer, a single finger caressing his face, “what do you see?” 

Suddenly Tony is blind. Then, in a flash, he isn’t. Instead he sees the sky spread out in front of him. He sees a golden city, a land made of ice, wonders made of metal being crafted, crystals and more books than he could ever imagine. Image after image goes by almost too fast to see. And then, as suddenly as it came, it is gone. Tony is back in the chapel, gasping for air. “Wh- what was that?” He tries to stop his limbs from trembling. What-? 

“That was knowledge. Long you have wondered how this Realm works. To understand. But this is not the only Realm out there. Midgard is part of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Nine Realms rest in her branches.” 

Tony looks up into those green eyes, trying to pull himself together. Either this is one of the craziest dreams he has ever had - or it is real. Loki is real. He is real and he has just given Tony a glimpse of everything he has ever wanted to know. 

“Tell me,” Loki asks curiously, “have I broken you yet?” 

“Tell me more,” Tony demands. He probably shouldn’t talk to a god that way, but Loki doesn’t seem to mind. 

He grins, all teeth and joy. “You believe that you can handle it?” 

“Yes,” Tony says without a doubt. He’ll learn it all or die trying. 

Loki moves closer still, so that there is no space left in between them. “You believe that you can handle _ me _?” A hand reaches up to cup his face. 

There is no question of that. Tony leans into the touch. “Yes,” he repeats. And if this is what kills him? What a way to go. 

“I am a possessive god,” he warns, “If you are mine than no one else can have you. Ever.” His eyes flash with heat. 

Tony grins, unafraid. “Will you make it worth my while?” 

“All that and more. Do you consent, my priest?” 

“Yes.” Rhodey would have a fit with how careless he is being, but Rhodey isn’t here to complain. The word is barely out of his mouth before Loki claims it with a kiss. And what a kiss it is. Tony could believe he is a god just from this because this kiss is divine. Truly. He crowds as close as he can - which really isn’t much considering how they were standing before - and wraps his arms around him. 

Eventually he has to pull away to breathe. He is having trouble getting enough air. His head feels dizzy just from that, but it is worth it. If this is what a kiss does to him, what about everything else? Yeah worth his while for sure. 

His expression must show some of that because Loki laughs. “Am I too much already?” That damnable smirk is still on his face. 

Tony takes a deep breath and snorts. “As if,” he says with more steadiness than he feels, “I’m just getting started. What about you?” 

“Oh my priest,” Loki smiles. 

“I have a name you know,” he finally says because it is starting to bother him, “I’m sure, being the all knowing god and all, you’re aware. So how about using it. Just because I’m yours doesn’t mean I’m _ just _ yours.” 

“As you say Anthony.” 

“Tony,” he corrects, “Anthony reminds me too much of Howard and no one wants that thought in the middle of this.” 

“Tony,” Loki says with a nod, caressing his face again. 

Tony shivers and not just from the touch. He loves how his name sounds in that rich voice. Like he is the only person who matters right now. “Great. Now kiss me again.” 

Loki laughs again, but does so. This kiss is even more than the last, if that is possible. Deeper and hotter and with that much more fire. Tony is beginning to feel weak at the knees from it. He can’t help but moan when Loki nips at his bottom lip. He buries his hand into that soft hair and holds on. Air is still a problem, but at the moment he could care less. 

He is hard already, fire flooding through him. A hiss escapes as he rubs himself against Loki’s leg. Ouch. The pressure feels good, but this _ damn robe _. Has he ever mentioned just how much he hates the thing? 

Loki pulls back to look down at him. 

“This would be more pleasant if I were naked,” he explains, plucking at the robe with distaste. And within a blink of an eye he is. It startles a laugh from him because it’s not as if it would have taken him long to remove it himself. Maybe someone is showing off. He grins. “Handy,” he winks as he leans against that cool leather. With a sigh he cants his hips forward. Yeah that’s much better. “I bet you have all sorts of tricks up your sleeves.” 

Loki smiles, all satisfied and smug. “That is the least of them I assure you.” 

“Good.” He wraps his arms around him again, raising himself up for another kiss. It sends goosebumps across his skin. It is somehow even more intense now. Long fingers trace his skin as they move together. 

Then Loki pulls away, pleased by the noise of protest Tony gives. “A moment,” he says and then lays Tony down on the ground. 

Tony goes down willingly. It’s when he is that he realizes what Loki was doing. There is a cloak spread out on the ground now. He runs a hand over it and about loses it right there. It is so soft that he almost can’t process it. Not after what he has been wearing. Even compared to what he use to wear it is a luxury unimagined. He looks up to see Loki staring blatantly at him. He stretches out, showing off. He looks good and he knows it. 

Loki rubs a thumb across his mouth. “Very good,” he murmurs when Tony takes it into his mouth to suck. “How very lovely.” 

Tony sucks to impress. He has been told that he is good with his mouth before. And Loki’s touch is addictive. Everything feels so good - wonderful - amazing that he never wants it to end. He holds back his disappointment as Loki pulls his thumb away. 

One last stroke across his lips and Loki stands. Slowly and deliberately he begins to strip, removing piece after piece of amour. Instead of watching what he is doing he watches Tony. His eyes never waver as bit by bit bare skin is revealed. 

Tony is just as focused. The strip itself is a wonderful thing to watch, but he also makes sure to pay attention to how it is removed. Next time he will be the one to do this. Next time he will strip Loki, kissing and licking each new spot of skin as he does. For now he is entranced at the sight. Loki is certainly a god, no doubt about that, with his body. 

When he is as naked as Tony he stands still for a moment, letting him look his fill before he goes down and over him. He lowers himself so that they are chest to chest and kisses the life out of him. Or that’s what it feels like. 

Tony arches up, trying to get as much contact as possible. There are miles and miles of it and Tony intends to claim it all. If he is Loki’s then he better be prepared to be Tony’s in return. God or no, Tony is demanding like that. 

He collapses when the kiss ends. Something hot and satisfied settles inside of him when he looks at Loki. His lips are well kissed and his hair is well mused. Tony did that. He is the one making the mark now. It is a heady feeling, to be able to affect a god. But suddenly he is hit by a wave of self consciousness. He tries to hide it, but he isn’t quick enough. 

“What is wrong?” Loki asks, not sounding put out at the pause fortunately. 

“I haven’t bathed in two months,” Tony admits, not looking at him as he does. Instead, he watches the ceiling above them. It is something that he has been trying not to think about. It was never a big deal at home, when he was able to have one once a week. But now - he isn’t sure if they do so at all or if it just has not happened yet. Either way he suddenly feels dirty and unclean in the face of Loki in a way he never has before. 

But Loki just nods. “Easily taken care of,” he says. 

Tony jumps as there is a tingling all over his body and then he is clean. Cleaner than he has been in a long time. It is _ very _ thorough from the feel of it. He grins. “Handy,” he repeats and then licks at his neck because he can. And because _ that neck _. It is so very tempting. All of Loki is tempting and Tony has never been so happy to give in before. 

“Anything else my dear?” he asks, faintly sardonic, but that doesn’t bother Tony. 

He grins brightly. “Please don’t let me stop you.” He more feels the chuckle than hears it as Loki moves down, tongue exploring his body. Tony arches and moves to give him full access. “Yesss,” he hisses when Loki finds a particularly sensitive spot. 

Loki pauses to mouth at it, sucking and nipping so that it will bruise. 

Tony tries to catch his breath. Never before has he been so aroused. His entire body is hot and ready. He cants up again to get some much needed friction on his cock. It leaks over Loki’s skin as he continues to leave no spot on Tony untouched. Once the trembling starts he can’t stop it. It is all so much and so good, he never wants it to end. 

Loki sucks at another place on his neck, high enough that no one is going to be able to miss it. Oh well, what else are they going to do to Tony? He’s already supposed to be stuck here - not that he is. And Loki doesn’t seem like the one to share, in any way. He’ll be fine. 

Teeth rake against his skin and then Loki moves back down to take a nipple in his mouth. 

Tony gives a cut off shout. That - he had no idea that could feel so good. His hands scramble at the cloak beneath him, needing something to hold onto. He thrusts his chest up and Loki alternates between the two nipples, sucking and biting and licking. He tries to hold back the noises he makes, but it is no use. He can’t help himself. 

“Shit,” Tony curses at a particularly hard bite before it is sucked intently. “Aw, aw - shi - damn,” he stutters, clenching both his eye and mouth. Loki hums and Tony sucks in a deep, shocking breath. Yeah this just might end up killing him. He has no regret whatsoever. 

Loki moves on and down, paying attention to his ribs that are now showing too much, his stomach, his entire torso. Nothing is left untouched. This feels more than simple exploration - this feels like, “I thought I would be the one worshiping you,” he gasps as Loki noses his stomach, just above his leaking cock. 

Loki hums. “In time, but how many people do you believe let me have full access to their bodies like this?” This time the question is full on sardonic. 

Oh. Oh so then it’s like that then. Apparently Tony is going to be waiting to return the favor. He doesn’t mind. “Still, still can’t understand - aw!” He stutters and then shouts as Loki takes the tip of his cock into his mouth, sucking gently. 

“You taste as lovely as you sound,” Loki says and then returns to sucking. 

There is definitely no stopping the trembling now. Tony moans lowly in his throat as Loki works, bobbing his head up and down, pausing to give the tip some more attention, fucking Tony’s cock with his mouth. Tony’s thighs tense and flex as he feels his release approaching. He tries to hold it off, not wanting to be done yet, but he can’t help it. That mouth is just _ so good _. 

But just before he can Loki pulls off entirely, leaving his cock to throb in the cool air. It bobs against his stomach, smearing it even more. Tony sobs, he can’t help it. He was so close, so- 

“Shh,” Loki soothes, petting his side, “It is alright my dear. I am not done with you yet. I have yet to taste _ all _ of you after all.” He gives a wicked grin and then ducks back down. 

Tony props himself up on his elbows so that he can watch. Surely he can’t mean? Hand spread him open, exposing him, nosing along his crack, his entrance and yes. Yes he can. He about screams when he feels that first lick. 

Oh. _ Oh _. That is like nothing he has ever felt before. That is - that is - the thought trails off as Tony falls back down, unable to hold himself up any more. Willingly he spreads his legs as far as he is able to. It leaves him even more exposed, but in the most wonderful way possible. 

Loki hums his approval as he continues to lick into Tony. He traces the rim, sucking on the briefly, before caressing his inner walls, loosening them up. Over and over he moves in and out, thrusting and moving, but missing the one spot that Tony knows is there. 

He lifts his hips and grinds down, wanting more friction. This is something he has never even imagined, but now that he has it, he wants as much as he can have. Another sob as Loki goes as deep as he can, nose bumping his balls above. He desperately needs more friction, needs Loki’s hands back on him. He wants to be completely surrounded by Loki. 

He is like an all consuming fire that Tony will gladly throw himself on. He will burn happily for Loki as long as he wants. He gasps, distantly recognizing how ridiculous he sounds, but not caring, just as long as he doesn’t stop. Tony is no poet, but he’ll try if this means that he can finally find his release. He’s almost there again, standing on the edge, but he can’t fall over. He is stuck there, whining and gasping for air. 

He gives a shuddering cry when Loki sits up again. “Are you ready for more?” He asks, smirking, looking far too pleased with himself. 

Tony about climbs him then and there because he’s _ been _ ready thank you very much. The glare only makes his smirk grows, clearly ineffective, but at least he moves then. 

He takes Tony’s hand and rearranges them so that he is the one straddling Loki now. His thighs are on either side of him. Loki’s cock brushes up against him as he kneels above. Tony has a brief moment of panic - at hadn’t been enough stretching for _ that _ \- but then Loki smiles, murmurs a soft “Relax” and helps Tony lower himself onto Loki’s cock. 

Tony’s first instinct is to clench down, but he forces himself not to, slowly impaling himself. Oh. Oh yes, that’s- He hisses, rolling his hips to change the angle slightly. Yeah, he’s into it - ha! It’s in him alright. He breathes a laugh as his ass settles on Loki’s thigh, taking every bit of him. Panting he leans down, hand braces on Loki’s chest and grins. Firm muscles flex under his hands. He licks his lips just at the thought of them, never mind the feel. 

“Very good,” Loki praises, hands curled around his thighs. 

Tony gives him a smirk of his own and begins to move. The angle he’s at is perfect for hitting that spot inside of him, rubbing it with every thrust in and out. He throws his head back and groans. This is the fullest he has ever felt and he loves it. There is no comparing it to his other experience. None. Loki is hard and big inside of him, dragging against his walls in ways he never knew he needed until now. 

Loki tightens his hold, helping Tony move. The strength in those hands, his arms, is even more of a turn on. Just because he is not traditionally muscular does not mean he is not fit. He is a work of art. 

Tony slumps down, putting more weight on his arms now. His breath comes out in pants and small noises. Sweat runs down his body and drips off as of. Even as he watches on falls his face and onto Loki’s chest. Gently he thumbs over the skin underneath his hands, unable to help himself. His thighs are full out shaking now, but he doesn’t pause, not even for a moment. He flexes, tightening his inner walls to make it even tighter inside. 

Loki hisses at that, nails digging into his skin. “Are you ready my dear?” he asks, thrusting up to meet Tony.

“Yes,” Tony shouts, “yes, yes, fuck, shit, yes,” he chants. 

Loki gives a breathless laugh, now thrusting up to meet Tony with every move. With one hand he reaches over and begins to stroke his cock. 

“Shit,” Tony curses, and moves faster still. He is so very close now, it won’t take long. 

And it doesn’t, not after that. Soon Tony is coming, spilling his release all over Loki’s hand and chest. Loki keeps moving through it, coaxing it out of him, chasing his own. With a small noise he does, filling Tony with it, hot inside of him. 

Tony slumps down, sated and exhausted suddenly. Still he can’t help smiling, probably a bit out of it, but he can’t help it. He has just been fucked by a god and he loved every moment of it. Take that Howard. Then he dismisses the thought for later because that really isn’t something he wants to linger on when he’s naked. 

Loki pulls out, but allows Tony to continue resting on him. 

“Worth it I guess,” Tony can’t help but tease, pushing the limit because he can, before yawning. Distantly he can feel the release leaking out of him and down his thighs. 

Again Loki seems more amused than upset. “So happy that I can live up to your expectations.” He smirks up at him. “Now rest now my dear and know that your god is with you.” 

Tony would like to make some remark to that - it sounds like that line is stolen from somewhere - but it is hard to keep his eyes open. 

“Rest,” Loki repeats. 

That is the last thing Tony hears before he closes his eyes. When he opens them again he is back on his cot. Was that really a dream after all? But then he notices that he is wrapped not in a blanket, but a cloak of soft fur. It is the same one Loki laid him on. Oh yes, what a lovely reminder. Standing, the cloak surrounds him, covering him entirely. He pushes his hand against it, marveling at it. The fur is unknown, but it is the softest thing he has ever felt. 

That - that was real then. _ Loki _ is real. Loki is real and is worth the panic he will have later about his existence - and what that implies about the others. He’s already looking forward to their next meeting. It’s sure to be equally as - pleasurable. 

The knock on his door signals that it is time to wake. 

Tony smirks. How much chaos can he make by stepping out like this? Let’s see shall we? Why not? He has a god on his side after all. A voice echoes with laughter around him. 

‘Just as they failed to cage me, so shall they fail to cage my priest. Go and sow your chaos my dear.’ 

Well then - how can Tony disobey an order like that? He opens the door. 


End file.
